Faintly Smiling
by Alyath
Summary: Follow the story of the newly appointed Number One, Teresa of the Faint Smile, as she tries to make her way through life, a silver-eyed warrior feared by both humans and monsters alike.


So, this is my first fanfic ever... I'm kinda worried but sincerely hope you'll like it! Please leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter, I'd love to know what you think about it. This story follows the life of Teresa from the moment she becomes Number One.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Claymore.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: The Number One<strong>

"You have been promoted..." the wary, quiet voice echoed from the trees, catching the silver-eyed warrior's attention, although she didn't seem to be surprised even in the slightest if her calm, almost expectant, expression was any indicator. "...to the rank of Number One. Congratulations, Teresa of the Faint Smile."

One elegant, thin eyebrow arched upwards gently at the last spoken words. "Teresa of the Faint Smile?" She repeated, her tone mingled with mocking amusement. So, was devising ridiculous nicknames the Organization's busy executives' idea of spending their days? "A _fearsome_ title."

"A _fitting_ title that you shall be using from now on." After a few seconds of silence, broken only by a soft rustling of brittle, dry leaves lying on the ground, a dark, hooded figure appeared in front of the woman. It was hard to discern anything from it's posture or clothing but the voice gave a vaguely masculine impression. The black cloak enveloped the frail body completely, adding more to the mystery.

That person was no stranger to Teresa. She met him a long time ago, back when she was still a young girl. He took her away from her village, her family, and brought her to the Organization. _This shall be your home from now on. We bought you from your caretakers and so, you belong to us. You shall begin your training tomorrow. Those are your quarters, take your time to rest._ She tried to run away the same night, desperately wanting to leave this cold, unwelcoming place, but her attempt failed miserably. He followed, watching over the unruly girl, until she couldn't take another step. Teresa expected him to punish her but he simply looked at her and took her back without a single word. His hands were surprisingly warm, his hold gentle and oddly reassuring.

She hadn't seen him for years to come after that incident. During her trainee years, Teresa attempted escape many times, secretly hoping that he would be the one to retrieve her but it never happened. As the time went by, she had partially forgotten about him, however that's not to say she stopped running away. Truth be told, she never intended to actually leave, but seeing how flustered and angry her instructors got, it became a highlight of her day. And theirs, _for sure._

Then, when she finally finished her training and officially joined the Organization's ranks, Teresa saw him again. He was her appointed handler. Sadly, he didn't seem thrilled about the prospect, although who can say for sure? The Claymore liked to think that the disapproving frown, which always bedecked his features whenever he had to deal with her, was actually his way of smiling.

"Whatever you say, Orsay. Your heartfelt praise is touching, truly." A small smirk appeared on Teresa's face as she felt his harsh gaze regarding her in a patronizing manner, very much like a stern parent forced to put up with a troublesome child. A child that could kill him in less than a blink of an eye with nothing but a lazy flick of her wrist. "Although I can't imagine Rosemary being too happy about the change."

"She is none of your concerns." Said Orsay, his gaze never leaving her face. "There is another reason for our meeting." With that, he moved towards her, pursing his mouth in a tight, thin line. Despite working with Teresa for the past several months, he still felt highly uncomfortable in her presence. It always disturbed him how a being as serene, beautiful and graceful as her could harbor such a frightening, flesh-eating monstrosity underneath that peaceful, doll-like exterior. He swallowed soundlessly before continuing. "An Awakened One had been spotted in the Ranaigh Mountains, near Ranai village. You will meet up with the others in Sedna's Rock and lead the hunt. Any questions?"

Teresa pouted slightly as he deliberately ignored her previous comment but the glimmer in her eyes showed clearly that she was far from offended. "And here I thought you were finally warming up to me. Oh, well, one of these days..." She left the sentence hanging and turned away from her sullen companion before leisurely walking down the forest road. However, after only four or five steps, she stopped, throwing her handler a curious, little glance from the corner of her brilliant, silver eye. "Do I know any of them?"

"Does it matter?"

The Claymore shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I guess not." She shot him her newly trademarked faint smile and left without another word, slowly picking up the pace.

Orsay watched her retreating back, listening to the loud, rhythmical clanking of metal. He stood motionlessly in his place, as if frozen in time. Only once his protege finally disappeared from sight he allowed himself to relax, sighing deeply in relief. The handler was unable to shake off the uneasiness that clung to him like a starved leech throughout the entire encounter. Even though he knew that Teresa would bring him no harm he didn't manage to fully trust her.

Truthfully, Orsay doubted he ever would. The images of bloodthirsty monstrosities she dealt with on a daily basis swarmed his mind, all too vivid to forget. The way she dispatched them was equally hypnotizing and frightening to behold. Such strength, agility and speed could be described as anything but human.

Yes, there was no denying the fact that Teresa is a monster. An insanely powerful, tame monster. Still, there was no guarantee that she would forever remain like this. The thought of her Awakening send icy, almost painful shivers down his spine. She certainly wouldn't be the first one to do it but definitely the most difficult to defeat, if such a feat was even possible to achieve.

Sometimes, he wondered whether keeping her was a good idea, the right move. Teresa's skills were unmatched by a large margin, there were no doubts about that, however she wasn't irreplaceable. Orsay couldn't tell exactly where it stemmed from, but he had a lingering feeling that she would betray them one day. If that happened, if a monster of her caliber was unleashed upon the world... well, he honestly hoped the gods were real and watched over them.

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><p>It was already dark when the Claymore arrived in Ranai. She marched for the past hours without stopping to rest even for a moment but she hardly felt any fatigue at all. The night was especially chilling, even for autumn, however Claymores weren't affected by neither extreme cold nor warmth so Teresa didn't really mind the rather unpleasant atmosphere. She went through a dramatic change of mood once the freezing rain started pouring down on her. There were only two things the silver-eyed warrior despised with her whole heart and rain was definitely one of them.<p>

Grumbling quietly as she brushed her wet, blonde locks away from her face, Teresa neared the village's entrance. She made a move to step through the heavy, wooden gate but stopped abruptly in her tracks, right foot locked in mid-air. The warrior lowered her head slightly and a faint smirk appeared on her features, lightening them up considerably. Then suddenly, she was gone, her image vanishing in thin air, as if she was a ghost or a wandering banshee.

The dead silence, disturbed only by the symphony of little rain droplets falling from the murky sky onto the ground, was violently shattered as a gut-wrenching scream filled the area. It was horrifying, resembling a feral, enraged howl rather than a human. However, what kind of an animal was capable of producing such a sinister, blood-freezing sound?

The answer came immediately, with a flick of a silvery sword, the movement so rapid that it seemed more like a barely traceable blur. Thick, purple globs of liquid stained the wet grass as the woman placed her huge, ever-reliable weapon in the holster on her back, where it rightfully belonged. An enormous, mangled corpse lied at her feet. It's skin had a greyish tint, shiny, golden eyes with slitted pupils were left open in pure shock and disbelief. The bulky body was cut right in the middle, separating it into two perfect halves. It's elongated limbs, now twisted in a weird fashion, ended with big, ebony claws that were every bit as sharp as they looked. Some of the rich violet was splattered across the monster's remains, undoubtedly once staining the gleaming sword on Teresa's back.

A _Yoma_.

"Did you really think that your foolish _ambush_ would work on me, little one? And they say that humans are irredeemable dreamers." Teresa chided her defeated opponent with mild amusement dancing in her voice, theatrically shaking her head in exasperation. To be honest, she appreciated the skirmish a lot, if it could even be called that way. It helped her get rid of all the pent-up aggression buzzing inside of her chest ever since the first droplet of rain fell onto her long, wavy hair.

Without further ado, she spun around on her heel and moved towards the direction of the village. _Time to make a new, everlasting friendship_, she thought, her grin widening greatly.

If only she knew...


End file.
